Sunday 26 October 2025
There were two bonuses this morning. There was the extra hour in bed, thanks to the clocks going back. And the heating in church was accidentally left on, thanks to the clocks going back. It was lovely and warm inside, but we were told not to get used to it
The Gospel was that difficult passage in Luke 18: 9-14, which I think about almost daily. And without fail, in the minutes before confession.
The Pharisee and the tax collector. Much like the story of the lepers last week, it invites you to consider: which one am I?
And I struggle sometimes getting past the idea of the Pharisee.
The moment I think I’m living as a good Christian, I’m suddenly proud. It becomes a Catch-22. You please God by rejecting pride and being humble. But by being humble, you are suddenly proud, which displeases God. You’re back to where you started from.
That’s not exactly a great interpretation of what’s going on. God doesn’t need to be pleased. Perhaps a better way to put it is I feel a need to please him. And I’m rubbish sometimes.
It’s easy sometimes to slip into judgement on others, but also a self-satisfaction. And in doing so to turn away from God. As Bishop Barron said in his homily: “The Ego is meant to revolve around God, not God around the Ego.”
I got another lesson in humility later that afternoon.
It was the bi-annual drive around the district, run by the local SVP. The first, in Spring, takes elderly parishioners out into the countryside to see the trees in bloom. The second, in autumn, to see the leaves turning all manner of gold, copper, and crimson.
I was one of the drivers, and managed to find my way around the circuit without getting lost. My passenger, Lucy, was a Whitstable resident of 56 years (just about long enough to be considered local). She’d grown up on a farm in Yorkshire, then moved south when she met her husband. Now a widow, she gets visits from her kids, grand children, and great grandchildren.
We drove through nearby Chestfield, into the countryside, where Lucy picked out how the trees arch over the road and meet in the middle. We call them tree tunnels in our house. How we take them for granted. I sometimes don’t know how lucky I am.
Talking to the others over tea and cake, the whole idea came about after a Christmas party for elderly parishioners of any faith. At the same party the following year, one woman said she hadn’t left her house since the last party. Gulp. And so the idea of two extra trips came about.
It did everyone good. Drivers, passengers, and tea servers alike. A third bonus of the day.